You're listening to DraftKings Network.
Hello and welcome. This man creates things, creates good things. He's got, uh, Teacher. That's on Netflix. That's a stand-up comedy special. He's got a second season of a scripted series, Bad Thoughts, Netflix. This month is where you catch it. He does a podcast with his wife Christina, Your Mother's House. He does another podcast with his other wife, Bert Kreischer, Two Bears, One Cave. And he's got a pod— a bit of a podcast empire, a media empresario, and secret Latino.
Secret, yes. White-presenting Latino.
Yes, uh, white-presenting Latino, uh, Tomás Segura. You could check it out, uh, all his tour dates, everything you tomsegura.com because he's white presenting. It's not Tomás Segura. Thank you for being with us. I've been interested in just watching your career over the last few years. You didn't imagine that you would be a content impresario, right? That's not something that was in the game plan.
Definitely not. No, no. I mean, I also loathed the idea of sharing life details and stories. Like, I never thought— I thought I would just do whatever the work is, you know, stand-up or a show, and then do things like this, like do press, do media, but never be the person actually, you know, conducting the interviews. And like, I did not embrace it at first at all.
Well, what— let's take me back to the beginning. These are largely biographical, or we try to make them. They start out that way. So you're dreaming of what as a kid?
Definitely to be funny, but I always thought it would be like in movies, you know, like movies and television shows, like as an actor. But like comedy specifically was what I wanted to do. And You know, I was doing, I was getting a communications degree at this small school in North Carolina. And whenever we would have to do videos to hand it in for like the production aspect, I would always do like a comedy spin on it. And I was like, I like doing this. I had done some improv stuff. And then I've discovered that I found like, oh, that SNL track seems like the way to go. How do people do that? And it seemed like a lot of them were going to the Groundlings, which is an improv, school, but also, you know, a place to go watch a show in LA. And I was like, oh, like Fallon went there, Will Ferrell was there. I'm forgetting, like, I forget if it was— I'll forget her name right now, but from like Will's cast, another actress there. I was like, I'll just go do that. So I moved to LA and I signed up for The Groundlings.
I started doing the school. So I was going through the levels of the school, and a couple guys in my class were like, "Man, you should try stand-up." Just like, you know, unprovoked, couple of—
Were you writing well? What were they seeing?
I don't know what they were seeing. I think they just saw that maybe when I was doing like monologs or like the way that I would, when I had to get up there and start one of the scenes, they just kept telling me, "You'd really like stand-up." And I was like, "I have no idea what to do." So they would take me around LA, show me how they do spots, you know, like go to this place, perform, drive over here. And I was like, "Okay, I guess I kind of see what you're doing." And then one of them one time walked me into a— like a club, a small room, like a bar room, and introduced me to the booker as a comedian. They're like, "This Tommy's a comic." And she was like, "Oh, you want to do a show?" "Like April 8th, I have a spot." And I was like, "Yeah, cool." Rigorous vetting. Like, yeah, just like, okay. And I was so dumb and naive to like how it works that for the very first show I ever did, I told other people like, "Oh, I'm doing standup at this thing." I didn't tell them it was my first time.
So they were like, "Oh, you do standup?" I was like, "Yeah." They were like, they just showed up to watch somebody for their first show. How old were you?
And this path, you at this, poem are still thinking I'm going to be a sketch artist. I'm not going to be writing them. I'm going to be doing—
performing them. Yeah, yeah, exactly. I was, uh, I think I had just turned 23. So yeah, I was 22, 23.
Your parents think you're lost, or do they know that where you're going is the right way?
They're searching. They had different perspectives. So my dad was like, you should really go for it. I think he was, you know, He was a financial advisor and he told me that really what his dream was, was to be a high school football coach. And that he told his father that and his dad was like, "No son of mine is gonna be like a PE teacher." And he's like, "In that time, you didn't debate your dad." He was just like, "Fine." So he was more like, you should go after really what you wanna do, but just be, realistic, like, you know, if it's not working, you have to pivot at some point.
He was like a VP, right? Wasn't he a vice president?
Well, I mean, that's like a, you know, a financial institution title. Like, he was just in the front.
Well, was he happy with what he was doing or no?
I think he, yes, I think he found joy in like, in, he really liked personal relationships. So like his, you know, taking care of like, he was in Vero Beach ultimately. Even though we lived in all these cities before then. I think he liked having the relationship where he could be like, call, "Dan, how are you? What do you need? Have you planned your estate planning stuff? Do you need," you know, like he liked those, that dialog with people. He liked people. He was not like an analyst who was breaking down percentages all the time.
Like he just was like, "I think you should invest in this." Well, I was just wondering where his advice was coming from to make sure that you follow something that you love.
I think it was really that he, really did— was affected by the fact that, like, he loved his dad, but I think his dad— I think that broke his heart in a way that he always wanted— He really did love, like, athletics and really loved high school football. I mean, he loved high school football.
He wanted to be a high school football coach.
He wanted to be a high school football coach. I mean, when I played high school football, that guy was, like, out of his mind. He would— He couldn't work that day. He would pace up and down the sidelines. He was out of his mind. But my mom was like— My mom's the Peruvian. She was like, "This is crazy. You're doing what?" And she encouraged me to get a job at the post office. And I was like, "Why?" And she was like, "Because you'll have benefits, and then you can have your time off at night to do your shows." I was like, "Yeah, I'm not doing that. That's not— no, I'm not getting a job there." But yeah, they had different levels of encouragement.
Your mom, the nickname Charro, is it from the banana fruit lady?
No, that's just a common nickname for any rancher. Rosario. So her name is Rosario, and then most Rosarios end up going by Charo.
And so what kind of personality type was she in terms of support and where it is that some of this stuff was leading you? Because pre-23, you're still a little lost, right? You know what you want, but that's—
I don't know how to do it, really. I mean, she was just, she was never really like, you know, go after your dreams. It's funny to look back and go like, what were they like? She was not like, go after your dreams.
But neither was my father. My father was like engineering. My father, they're exiles, both of them. But my mother was the one who was supporting, yeah, you gotta let the boy do what he wants to do. But she was sitting at the dinner table with a man who was unhappy with what he was doing, who was always complaining about his boss.
Really? So yeah, it's funny. I mean, you know, I also think there's some element to like, for my mom of being the foreign, like, you know, the Latin immigrant who's like, "Do what's secure and structured." And like, you know?
Safe.
Yeah. You know, you can work a real job. And this whole idea of like, "I'm gonna perform," just is insane to her. She was, look, she's much funnier. My dad died a few years ago, but my mom is actually very funny. And you could tell, when you're around especially two people, you're like, this is the funny one and this isn't. Like, he couldn't tell a story to save his life. She's a natural storyteller. She adds color, she makes it dramatic, she, she knows how to— like, her timing is impeccable. It's all just like a natural skill.
Is that where your funny comes from?
I mean, I have to think that some of it comes from there for sure. Yeah, she's like a— she's a very funny person, like naturally very funny. And I have two kids now, and you could tell that like One of them is naturally very funny. Like, he's very funny, you know? Like, he's a complainer, which is crazy. Like, he's 7 years old, he's like, this fucking table's in the way, man, I keep bumping my leg. Like, he just complains about things, and you realize that it's funny to complain. Like, an indifferent person isn't funny, you know? Having an opinion's funny.
A 7-year-old spending a lot of time kvetching is funny.
It's funny. He's always fun. He's just like, how come you got nice clothes? I got like a t-shirt. What the hell is this all about, man? Why don't you buy me some nice shit? Like, he's just complaining all the time, and you just can't help but laugh. But she— yeah, I do think a lot of humor came from being—
you're offensive to your mother, correct?
Very. Yeah, yeah, she doesn't like it. But that's why it's fun, because I think it's like— I think it's, it's part of your connection. Part of you never wants to grow up, particularly with your parents. I think part of you wants to always have a kid-parent dynamic. And when you're a kid, it's a natural thing. When you become adults, you balance out. But I think Part of the fun of being with your parent is, is like having the perpetual mother-son dynamic. And for me, part of that is provoking my mom, doing things that I know will upset her because it makes me laugh. You know?
And you get to stay forever a teenager there. One of the great frustrations I had, I don't know what your frustrations are working with family, but one of the great frustrations I had doing the television show with my father is everyone else there knew I was the boss.
Yeah.
But I was always just his first son.
Yeah.
And so he just wouldn't take instruction from me. Oh yeah. I was just his son and he never changed the dynamic. So when you're talking about one, I wanted to change that. I wanted slightly to not be the rebellious teenager.
Right.
I wanted my dad— I always wondered whether the show would be any funnier in spots if we could have just scripted some stuff for my father that wasn't just his natural funny, but he wouldn't take really instruction.
He wouldn't take instruction. Yeah. My mom is has a bit of that too. She's also just so obsessed with like, what am I getting paid for this? Like, if I ask her to come in and like, can you just do this bit with me on the pod? She's like, what's it pay? I'm like, what do you mean?
She starts negotiating right away.
Yeah, I go, what do you mean? Well, she goes right away too. She's like, aren't you getting paid? Like, when you do your thing? I go, yeah. She's like, right. So, where am I, what am I getting? And I'm like, bro, that's not, we're not doing that. Because my dad was the opposite. Anytime I was like, hey, will you, I'm gonna— I need you to answer the phone to do this bit today. He would always go like, yeah, of course. And then he would tell my mom, he's like, it's my son. Of course I'm gonna do anything he asks me to do. And she's like, he's getting all this money for this. We should get something too. And he'd be like, what? Like, no, it's our kid. She still thinks like that. She still is like— I mean, also, yeah, she is like— I did a movie over the summer. And I got her a part in the movie, a cameo. And the cameo was like, she's a bellhop at the hotel. She's supposed to carry the bags and like walk them in, put them down, stand over there. And when this dialog ends here, she has a line, right?
So we do like the walking, the blocking rehearsal. "You got it?" "Yeah, I got it." First take, action. She comes in, I'm at this counter with Tim Baltz and Luke Wilson. We're checking in the hotel. She has our bag. She goes, "Tip?" This is unscripted. And I'm like— And then Luke's like, "Uh, yeah, I don't have anything." And then she's like, "Ah, you guys are cheap." Then she walks over here. We're doing dialog. She's, like, laughing, commenting. And then it comes time for the line. She adds, like, 3 lines. Cut. I go, "What the hell are you doing?" She's like, "Just, like, I'm feeling it. I'm doing thi—" I'm like, "Don't do that." And everyone's laughing, and they're all laughing that I'm getting upset. And I go, "Stop adding shit!" And she's like, She's like, "What, you guys don't like having a little flavor in this?" I'm like, "No!" Like, just— And she wouldn't listen to me. I had to tell the director to go over there and be like, "Just stick to what we just went through 4 times and do that." Oh, you couldn't do it yourself because you weren't going to get through.
You had to send over somebody, a more powerful figure. Yeah. For her to actually take the direction. Yeah.
And that's on script for her, on brand for her, correct? To just do whatever she wants, just comes in and owns the place?
100%. Yes.
How did it come to be that you started working with her on, uh, in general?
I just— it came from the fact that I knew that I could upset her, because that always made me laugh. So I used to just have her do, like, podcast appearances where the idea was, I know this is gonna bother her. We just got her in, so, second season of my show.
So she's just getting you— it's vengeance to come on your set and then bother you.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Truly, yes. Because I do like to upset her. I just tricked her. Big time. She doesn't even know yet. I just had her do a scene for season 2 of my show where we gave her a fake— like, a fake script for her to respond to me. It's supposed to be on a phone call, but we didn't tell her what's really happening in the phone call. She's going to find out when it airs, because if she knew the real contents of it, she wouldn't do it.
So— So you've written 2 different parallel universes, one just to trick your mother and the other for public consumption. Yeah. Yeah, but I interrupted you. I'm sorry. No, no, beginning to tell the story of, of how it is that you came to—
it really was just like I knew that I could have a great laugh and I thought I could make other people laugh with showing them this dynamic. So it would just be like we would be doing a podcast like this. I would have her call in or Zoom in and we would just try to— I would just try— I knew how I could provoke her and get a reaction that I thought was funny. So I was just using the dynamic to get laughs. And then—
Same way I use my father. Yeah.
I mean, yeah, it's the same kind of thing.
Exploiting Latin comedy for the American people.
Exactly. Yeah. I knew what would upset her. And, you know, it was always just fun to get her fired up. It's just still fun. It's just like when I was a kid, you know, you'd belch at the table and she would like, "Ay, por favor, grosero." And like, just like— kind of dress me down. I do it to this day. I try to do things like that just to upset her today.
Uh, what are the challenges with working, uh, with your wife that people wouldn't see or know about?
I mean, I guess the challenge— I don't know. You know, it's so second nature to us at this point. We started doing that podcast in 2010. So, we would do it in our— we had a one-bedroom apartment. And we would— we first, we did it at another person's apartment, and then we took over the production ourselves. And it was just like, walk in this room, sit down like this, and record an episode. And then it just kind of grew. And, and from there, I mean, the thing about it is like, um, sometimes, especially like when I'm on tour or she's on tour, it's actually the most time and intimacy that we spend that week together is do— like, we didn't realize it until later. We're like, you realize this is the longest conversation we've had this week is doing this? And you're like, oh yeah, that's crazy. So in a way, it's like kind of like the most you do connect, uh, in uncertain times of year or certain weeks because we're always traveling. Like, travel, travel, travel is like— is built into our relationship.
But you're also both comedians, both performers. Yes. And so I would think that there would be challenges there, just like you'd find in any relationship where there are two performers. I mean, I don't—
I think we both gravitated to our natural roles in what that podcast, what that show is, so that it doesn't feel— we never really felt— one thing that we noticed early on is there was other, like, comedy couples is you could see that they were competing. In comedy, a lot of times, like, getting a gig or getting into, let's say, a festival, a big— Montreal has had a massive festival for a long time. Netflix Is a Joke is a festival now. So, you would see these couples, and, like, one of them got into the festival and the other didn't. And you could see the resentment. But we never had like, like competition from early on. And I don't think it's like a credit to like, oh, we're so zen. It just wasn't like that. We always looked at like, oh, you're working this week and I'm not. It's all coming back here. That's great. Like, go work. And we, for the early years, we would both leave on Wednesday because you had to be in there Wednesday nights for Thursday morning press. You had to go to Hartford. And then you'd work Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.
We'd fly back Monday. We would be exhausted. Tuesday we would record our podcast, and Wednesday we'd leave again. That was like our life for years and years before we moved on to other, you know, other gigs.
What was the ambition though back then? Like, what was the destination?
Pay your rent. I mean, literally, like, it was because at first there was no revenue except for like you would have. I don't know if you remember this being a thing, if you even had anything like this.
You're talking about the advent of podcasting, basically, right? 2010. You're a bit of a pioneer in this realm.
A little bit of an early adapter, I would say. There was definitely people before us, but we were ahead of a lot of people. The big revenue thing at the time, because advertising wasn't even really spoken of, was there would be a banner on the page on your podcast homepage to go to Amazon. And people, if you would encourage them to shop through that banner because it gave some code and you would get pennies on the dollar of, of the shopping that people did through that banner. We were just like, man, if we could just do this once a week and have our rent paid from people shopping through that banner, That's a huge win. You know, we're doing it from our house or our apartment. Like, that would be incredible. That was literally the goal. I didn't know there was enough people listening to do that or any really to sell tickets. It took like a while to figure out like, oh, there's enough people doing this to like actually sell tickets to a venue or eventually get somebody to pay you to advertise. That was not even in the realm of possibilities. How long before it was?
Like, how long was the struggle? I mean, I remember, let's see, like, it was struggle, struggle, 10, 11, 12. 13 was the year that I shot my first special. And when it came out, you have all these— first of all, the goal was to get it on Comedy Central. That was like the mountaintop. At the time, if you remember, Comedy Central was the place you wanted to be. If you worked in standup, in comedy. Like, their programming was incredible. They had bangers, like, back to back, you know? It was like Daily Show and Colbert, South Park. There was other sketch shows, people like Workaholics. All these shows were, like, just hits. And as a standup, you're like, I just wanna be on Comedy Central. And I got turned down. And then they told me the, uh, they're like, Netflix will license your special. I was like, Netflix? The place you mailed DVDs to? And they're like, no, they started streaming. Like, it's good. But it was not exciting to hear. And it came out in March of 2014. And that year was like a pretty good year. I, you don't feel the effects of it right away.
It's not like the special comes out and you're like, wow. This is great. It was like months later, I would say in the summer at one point I did a club and I remember the manager goes, I don't know how you did this. He's like, but you hit a couple bonuses from like selling tickets. He goes, I don't know why. And I was like, and I didn't even put the two. I didn't go, oh, the special made people come here. I was like, oh, that's crazy. But by the end of the year, I was selling out clubs. And also the podcast had grown and you're like, oh, the two of these things are like, uh, clearly working right now. So 2015 was like the first, like, oh wow, this, this actually has worked.
What are the details that you remember about 2010 through 2014 where you're like, is this gonna work? Are we doing it right?
I always had this thing where I would, at the end of the year, look back. And look at the previous year in terms of everything. Creatively, you're like, am I progressing? Like, am I taking risks in my joke writing? How much am I working? Yes, how much did I make? And you would, you know, it would be like, I don't know, one year you might made like $53,000 and the next year you made $72,000. You're like, hey, that's great, you know? And then you keep keeping track of that. Was it linear? Pretty much, yes. Yeah, it was pretty linear. I also did— I always was like, you know, I put out an album in like 2009, I think, and I did it through a company that like, they don't— all they did was set up the equipment basically, and then they print. This is when people would still like buy your CDs and stuff. And then when I was going to do another one, I wanted an hour special before I got one. I decided to record it and hire the sound engineers myself, have it mixed myself, and then distribute it myself because I learned, like, how to do this.
And I put it out myself. So I sent it to the streamers, I put it on iTunes, I did all the things. And that was a huge, at the time, financial success for me too. I remember, like, that year From owning that, doing that myself, I made like $50 grand in 2012 or something from it. I was like, this is crazy, you know? Like, the first check was like $10,000. I was like, holy shit. But that was from— so that really gave me a lesson in ownership, like the advantages of like, yes, it's not going to be as glamorous. Yes, you know, you're not going to have a person that you can call to be like, take care of this. But ultimately you own it and, and having the ownership is ultimately worth it in a lot of ways, you know. It's— it is— inform me on getting to this point of like, you know, owning this company that produces and distributes podcasts. Because I also ended up, you know, one of the things was like we had ad agencies doing our, our sales for, for ads and podcasts, but ultimately I started my own ad agency.
So we sell our own ads. You know, and we sell it for a bunch of shows. And that, I think all that lesson came from things like doing that album on my own.
What do you regard as the most fulfillment you have felt from a singular achievement?
Um, that's a good question. Um, I think my dream, my dream from early on was doing a movie, like starring in a movie and everything. So the one that we shot last summer that is not out yet really brought me so much joy. And that's not to say that, like, some of the stand-up things, because those have been incredible too. Like, you know, you sell out MSG, you're like, that feels incredible. Doing specials feels incredible. There's nothing quite like thinking of a joke taking it to the stage and having it work, it's like, it's what you get addicted to, the rush of that. But ultimately, achievement-wise, I have to say that I felt like doing the movie was like a 25-year dream, you know, because I identified the script, I kept pushing for it, I'd meet with financiers, and then when they said yes and you start building it out, hiring your director, going through the casting process, And then one day you're there on set and you're like, "I can't believe we're actually doing this." And then you see a cut of it and you're happy with it, how it comes out. Even though it's not out, it was the most thrilling, fulfilling thing that I think I've done yet.
You like to learn, though, it sounds like, though, because some of this business stuff that you're talking about, I hate it. It's not a part of my brain that works. I don't know if it's because it's atrophied over too many years of doing other stuff, but I'm just not interested. The idea of creating your own sales staff, that's something that we had an opportunity to do leaving ESPN, and it would have given me more freedom. But I like the idea of no, DraftKings has a sales staff. Let them do that stuff because I don't want to be doing some of this other stuff that makes my head hurt and creates a lot of responsibility that isn't creative responsibility.
Well, I think I feel the same way in a lot of— and a lot of that's why assembling who works with you is so important, because in a lot of ways I can go, yeah, I would love that. You do it. And that's what I do. Like, it's not like I'm managing this sales stuff in any way. I'm signing off on, I would love that as a business, but I'm not gonna be the day-to-day guy in this in any way. So like, my best skill set, I think, in business is identifying talent, you know, and trying to get them to work with me. Like, that's what you learn helps you in business. It also has, it pays incredible dividends in production. Knowing, like, I like this writer, I like this producer, I like this director, I like this production designer, and going, please work with me. These people are talented. That's what gets you, I think, so much— because you realize you can't, you can't do it all. You can just go, I want to work in this field. I'm not gonna—
can't do it well.
You can do it poorly. You can do it poorly. Exactly. So, like, hiring great people becomes the skill set, you know. It's like, I'm not going to do the ad sales, dude, and I'm not going to oversee their ad sales. I'm just going to get a report.
But what was it about you that gravitated toward the ambition of more, uh, more, just more?
I mean, I, I don't know. I think, um, just being like, being a dreamer, I guess, you know. I mean, I don't— like, you're just wanting to be— seeing that it's possible. I also feel like businesses are kind of like like when you write material, in that the adventure, the possibility that it goes well or poorly is what's exciting. Like, I just opened a bakery. I don't know if you know this.
I do know this. I've been told that it's quite the passion project of yours.
But like, people are like, you know, it's funny because some people will go like, will see it as like, is this a cash grab, and you're like, huh, a cash grab, a bakery? Like, the thrill of it is that it really is— I feel like the whole thing is adventurous in that I met somebody at their bakery in LA. I had always talked about how much I love croissants, pastries, and everything. And a guy literally was like, oh, best croissants in LA, go here. I went there. I try it. I'm like, these are unbelievable. And I just developed a rapport with this guy, like, as a fan. Like, if you go to your favorite coffee place, you guys have the best coffee, just like that. And over the years, I kept talking to this guy, and I was like, almost like it's a fantasy. Like, like, I want to do this movie. You go like, I would love to open a place where I live in Austin, but like with your croissants and pastries. And then one day he's like, yeah, we could do that. I'm like, really? You would move to Austin, Texas from LA?
He's like, yeah. And then you, you know, it becomes an adventure. The whole thing is an adventure where you're talking about the plate, you're looking for the place to put it in, then you're hiring designers, you're designing the menu. Like all these steps, I, I get a rush out of it. Like it's a thrill to go like Oh, this is going to be a real thing. And I, I feel like when you're in business of something like that, you have to feel like ultimately the, the product is what's going to sell. Like, I'm not going to give some speech that will convince you. But ever since we have a pop-up location now and I get messages every day and people are like, you know, these are unbelievable. Like, yeah, I know. That's why I did it, man, because I wanted people to try this thing that I love. And so I don't know, I just feel like that's the thrill. The thrill is in having the idea and trying to make it happen.
How did you end up in Austin? What was the decision-making involved? Pandemic.
I am— I've been in LA. I was in LA 19 years. When you travel as much as I do, you know, you always have that thing sometimes where you come home from the weekend of touring, you go, you know what was awesome? Denver. Fucking love it. And you start talking about it. And then eventually Christina would always be like, you know, we're not moving to Denver, right? And I'd be like, oh yeah. And she's a lifelong Angelino. So she would just go like, it's not— she's like, we're just— we're never leaving here. And I just kind of was like, yeah, sure. You know, plus, like, we work in entertainment. Makes sense. The pandemic, particularly in Los Angeles, was such a disaster, like, how it was managed. The funny thing was that I wasn't the lead on We Should Leave. I just accepted, like, this is what's happening. She was the one, which was, like, the huge surprise. She was like, we got to get out of here. And I was like, really? She's like, "Yeah, like, there's National Guard on the corner. They're bussing the homeless and people from, like, institutions into the park, and they're like, 'Live in the park.' They're also, like, chaining— like, they're locking up all the playground stuff so that no one goes to play with—" And we had— our kids were very young.
She's like, "We gotta get out of here." And I was like, "I'll move." I still, like, love LA, by the way. I love a lot about LA. That was the motivation. And then it was like, where are we going to move? So there's only like a few places to consider. Um, Austin was a place where I had toured a bunch, you know, over the years. You always would hit the city, and we always just enjoyed the city. It was like, this is a great city, I always have fun here. It was a good comedy scene, uh, great people, etc. And by that time, I'd known a few people that moved. So you're like, I know a few people there. Visited. It was so hard to find a house because on your flight to Austin from LA, the realtor would be like, we're going to show you 10 houses today. And you would land and they were like, yeah, 6 of them sold during your flight. And you're like— and so it took like all these trips, but eventually we found one. And, uh, people were just very, you know, it was— it's a very like welcoming place.
Kids love it. It's turned out to be a great move.
You mentioned both kids are under 10, right?
One's 10 and one is 7. Are you too busy?
How does presence at home manifest with kids of that age given the opportunities that you have? All of your dreams are coming true professionally, right?
Well, yeah, now I'm going to cry. It's been tough. I feel like the The— there's real lessons in there about, like, how to create balance. And it's all been, uh, on me for, like, how much stuff I want to do versus being there. I've never been around more than I have, like, the last several months because I'm off tour and I finished shooting and now I'm home, like, almost every day. And you can see how much better it— like, I'm happier, they're happier. Yeah. Um, yeah, I would go on these crazy tours where I would just leave for just so— like, I wouldn't leave in depth. You always come back, but you're home for like 2, 3 days. And if they're in school, you see them for an hour.
Just do a podcast with them so you can rekindle what you did with your wife, where every week you check in and you just connect superficially across from microphones while Daddy makes Mom money for Grandma.
For me, it's been so much fun, uh, in this last year really of like hanging out with them more and realizing how much I was missing out on things.
Oh, it dawned on you? It does. Why? You were coming home and they were more grown up, right?
Well, there you could just see that, like, I mean, you can almost— you could feel it too, that they're like, oh yeah, you're leaving right now? Because you leave a lot. And you're like, yeah. And then the, the real lesson, I think, or where it hits you the hardest, isn't when you're gone. Because sometimes you're gone, you're like, I really miss them. It's when you're there and you spend like 5 days together just doing things that you're like, oh wow, I'm missing this all the time. That's, that's when it, I think, hits you the most, is when you're actually doing stuff with them and then you're like, I can't believe I'm missing this all the time.
I would think that there are certain things to being a comedian that just sort of inherently make you more selfish than a parent needs to be. Just the chasing of laughs, funny, me, me, solo act, I'm responsible for—
Yeah, you're not wrong. You're not wrong. And then you, you know, by the nature of the job, you do leave. You have to leave. People are always like, why don't you bring them with you? I'm like, what are you talking about? Like, when they were what, 5 and 7? Just, hey guys, we're gonna hit the road? Like, it's not a possible thing to do. So what you can do though is, and this has been another lesson, is like, you can create the schedule that kind of is more balanced and benefits everybody.
It requires you saying no to things though that you've always wanted.
That's exactly it. But that's where the lesson lies, is that there's so much power in no. And it's like, when you're saying yes to this, you're saying no to them. So it's like, where's your no gonna go? And so, yeah, you have to turn things down. You have to turn work down. But it's not, you realize that like, yeah, when I started to say no is when I realized like, yeah, I don't feel bad about that.
Oh, but somewhere in you has to be the guy who from 2010, 2014 was just scared. He's always in there. Somewhere.
Yeah, because you're always terrified. You're, you're, you're working so hard to try to get somewhere, to get a ticket sold, that when you get to the point where you're selling tickets, you can't believe it. And your mind also does this thing where it's like, it's gonna end. Like, you're not gonna sell tickets forever, which is not untrue. Like, you have a window of time where you're in demand. And so you also feel like, "I have to try to capitalize on the fact that I can do this right now." How much pinch me did you have on your world tour where you're like, "I can't believe that I'm doing the world"? I mean, I— You do have some of it. I was— I'll say this. I was very— I'm lucky in that when you want success in this field, maybe in any field, You want it right away, right? You are like, when you see it, you're like, "I want this to be at that top tier immediately." And I was so lucky in that all of my success as a stand-up came gradually. Like, the first time I sold tickets, I didn't— it wasn't a rocket ship, I'm saying.
I sold out clubs. That was always the dream. The dream was that, like, comedy clubs are the life force line of comedy and stand-up, and it's all you know. So when you can sell out a club, you're like, "This is amazing. I just sold out a weekend of shows at the club." And then they go, "We added a show and that sold out." You're like, "That's all I saw as like the mountaintop." And then the next tour I went on, it was theaters. I was like, "That is crazy that we're doing theaters." Then you go into bigger theaters. So you go from the 1,200-seat theater to the 3,500-seat theater, and you're like, "This is nuts." And then when you graduate from that, you do arenas and amphitheaters, which you never— I never conceived of that because it just— it wasn't even a thing to think of. But I was lucky in that that took, like, a decade. So, yeah, by the time we were on a world tour, It was— I was like, "This is bananas." We're doing shows. We did shows all over Europe. We did Asia, South America. We did Africa. You know, it's like— You can't believe that it's actually happening at the time.
And then in the States, it got real crazy that you're like, "This is where NBA teams play.
I cannot believe that we're walking in their locker room right now to do stand-up." Is there one thing one moment above all the others that stands out to you in terms of awing even you, where you're like, how did my life become this? Where—
I mean, Africa seems crazy to me. That— I mean, destination-wise, you know, you always remember— I think you always remember more than the, um, the venue itself or the size, you remember just like shows that are Amazing. You know, like when you go, "This show was nuts." Like the energy, the laughs, like where it's just like it felt like you're in the pocket. You know, it's like when you shoot 80% from the field or whatever. You're like, "This is crazy. We're in the zone." Which one is it?
Are you in the pocket and you're comfortable because you're surrounded by your offensive linemen? Or are you in the zone making jump shots?
Which is it? Both. Choose your metaphor. I like both. Oh, wow. I know you're a sports guy. I was trying to give you all of it.
So you're throwing it in the pocket and shooting jump shots from behind an offensive line.
You're behind the offensive line, but you're throwing a football into a basketball hoop and you're good at it. Okay.
And you're dancing with the stadium.
You're moving rhythmically with the people in the audience. Those are the shows— like, I can look back. I know this sounds crazy. Like, I can remember a show in Springfield, Missouri that I was like— because sometimes you look at your calendar and you're like, what are we doing there? You just forget that. So it's not the venue at all.
It's simply how many laughs did I get in this place? Totally. The right energy from the crowd. How did I feel afterward? Was I satisfied with my performance?
That's all of it. That's all of it. I don't think it's— I can remember Reykjavik. So it could be anywhere in the—
Yeah. They're interchangeable, whether it's Reykjavik, Africa, or Springfield, Missouri.
Springfield, Missouri, Reykjavik, Iceland. I remember doing a show in I think it was in Manchester in England, a show in Budapest. I can remember the show in Buenos Aires in Argentina. I can remember doing the show, Seattle was a crazy, and Portland too. Portland always stood out to me because I was like, oh, Portland will be like super crazy, like extreme lefties. They won't like what I'm gonna say, even though I'm not doing like political stuff. But then you do the show and the show was Bonkers. And that's part of the lesson too of like, you can't go into it predicting how the audience's reputation as a city will affect the show. It's who's at the show, you know? Seattle was that we broke an attendance record. So that was like, the energy of just walking out there was so nuts. Those are like things that just stand out in your head.
Do you do anything in the way of fear, performance anxiety, or have you been able to conquer that with rep?
Um, some of it dissipates with the fact that you just do it all the time, but you learn that you should have some nerves. It's a bad sign if you're like, "Nothing." Like, if you just have nothing before the show, I don't think that's gonna be a good show. You— the thing is, you don't have panic, but you have some anxiety, and that little bit of anxiety is good. It— 'cause you're gonna perform. You're not going to go there and take a nap. Like, you're going to perform. You should take a little bit of what's inside and, you know, making you feel a little fear, that you can use that in your performance. And some of it goes away after the first laugh. There's always this thing where you're like a little anxious and you get your first laugh and you kind of settle in. But you should stay, you know, on your toes a little bit throughout. And I also think that the best mentality to hit the stage with You know, backstage before a show, you can feel any range of emotions. It's like when you walk in here. Out there, you could have a day where you're like really happy.
You could have a day where you're upset about something. You could be down about something. You still have to come in and do a broadcast. It's the same thing backstage before a show. You always have different feelings on different days. But the best, like, headspace to get into, in my opinion, is silly. —like, when you feel, like, silliness. Like, when you're hanging out with friends and you guys are just BSing and, like, making fun of each other, you have music on and you're doing some dumb—and you feel silly. That energy is the energy that I like to take on stage. I feel like it always leads to the best shows.
What year would you have imagined theaters something you could fill? Like, when did that become something that was even aspirational? 'Cause it seems like, to me, that pre-2015, the only people who are filling theaters are your legends of comedy. There is no such thing other than the people who have historically been on the Mount Rushmore, right? That wasn't— You're totally right.
And part of it too is, um, I don't know if everybody thinks this way, but I think I'm a realist, is that part of why so many of us are doing theaters and arenas now is the landscape has changed. It's not that we are all Mount Rushmore comedians. Like, I recognize that. That, like, if I were the same guy doing the same thing and it was 1999, I would not be on the same trajectory selling tickets. We live in this age of the internet where things are streaming, things are on YouTube. People have more access to this stuff the talent pool of comedians. Part of the reason, like, we're doing this is because so many more people are aware of you, because, like, the technology allows them to be aware of you.
Right. It's not just you got to be on The Tonight Show or even you got to be on Rogan. You can have your own— the podcast intimacy is an interesting one, though, too, though, because people feel like they know you. And it might not be that they know your comedy, though they also know that, but they feel like they know you because the podcasts are so intimate.
They do. The podcasts play a huge role in it. And to be honest, so does the streaming services. Netflix in particular, which has been home for me for like 13 years, 12, 13 years. You can't— you couldn't predict that it would become this international juggernaut where like millions of people subscribe and can see you do this. Like that definitely made an impact. You know, I would— I think if it were a different time, if I'm lucky, I'd be selling out clubs. Like that would be the thing, you know, which is like—
And happy to be doing it. —doing just that. That's a monster achievement. —Thrilled.
That's a monster achievement. People don't realize that somebody who can sell out a club is in the 1% of 1% of comedians. Really, it's really special that you can do that. This stuff above it, yeah. When I was growing up, the people who sold out theaters was like George Carlin, Bill Cosby, Seinfeld. There's like a handful of people, and they were all household names. Now I do— these big venues and I see names on their backstage, like who's coming up? I'm like, I don't even know who that is. And they're like, oh yeah, that guy sold out 15,000 tickets here. I'm like, really?
If I showed you right now, if I put your first special on, could you watch it? Do you?
Fuck no. No, I don't wanna watch myself do it at any time. It gives me tremendous anxiety. All of them?
Even the ones you're doing now? I was doing your first one 'cause I would imagine that's the vulnerable one. No, you're right.
The last two, I could like, I don't want to watch myself perform, but it's more tolerable because it's recent. The last two. Yeah, old stuff. Yeah, you just go, oh my God. But it's also just hard. I think it's weird. It's hard to watch yourself perform, whether it's in acting or stand-up. It's just, yeah, you feel very exposed. And then you're always like, what am I doing with my hand? And like, why did I do that with my voice? Why did my face make that expression? I should have I should have said this instead of that. There's also this thing, this phenomenon that happens to, like, so many comedians. Whenever you tape something, you know, you're really— you're working on getting it ready to tape, and you dial in your language. You get methodical about ba-ba-ba, the pause, and then the line. The week after your tape, you have this release, right? 'Cause there's so much pressure on a taping. The week after you tape, you start to say things differently. And sometimes you say a joke that you never said at that point, and you're like, I just wrote a 10 times better joke.
Just because you're in the structure of rehearsing it and sculpting it, and in your head, by the time you go to stage, you've got the pause built in for when they're supposed to laugh.
And you also have, you think your punchline is the, that's the line. And the week after you tape, you relax where you don't feel the pressure, and your brain goes, "How about instead of saying this, you say this?" And you do, and you're like, "That's way better.
That's way better." How is it possible that someone like you who wanted to be an actor hasn't or doesn't watch 30 Rock or The Office?
How do you know that, man? What kind of research you guys do here?
Always Sunny. How is it possible?
I think I've seen, like, brief— obviously, you can't escape seeing things like that. I think that, like, as I kept working and touring in comedy, I would— when I got home and I wanted to watch something, it's like the last thing I wanted to watch was more comedy. I was just like, you know, I'm like, "I'm on the road. I'm doing stand-up every night." My friends are comedians. All our conversations are about comedy. I'm watching them do comedy. I do comedy. I was talking comedy, comedy, comedy. I would get home and I was like, I want to watch drama or a thriller or just a biography. Like all my— I just would put something on and even like on the good ones, I would just kind of feel like this is just— I'm comedied out right now. So I would go The whole, and people would lose their minds on me, like absolutely go crazy. They're like, what? I go, yeah, I haven't seen it. I was watching all these other shows.
The first time I heard something like that was from Jimmy Walker, of all people who had at one point Leno and Letterman writing for him, I think. And he just at one point said, I've stopped. I've heard and seen all comedy. I know what all of the comedians are doing it, what angle they're doing it from. I'm bored by all of it.
Yeah. I mean, I I kind of get it. Now, there's always things that like— I remember when Eastbound and Down came, the Kenny Powers HBO. I devoured that. I thought that was the funniest thing that I'd seen. I loved Louis' FX show. I thought it was really, really smart and really funny. I've seen other things over there, but usually when it's like new comedy is out, I just— I don't have like the, like, "I won't watch that." I just end up gravitating towards something else. World War II documentaries. Like I said, dramas that— I love the crime genre. Sports? Sports too. College football? Love, love college ball. Yes.
Love it. Would it surprise you to learn that it took Danny McBride a full year to develop the pitching motion? He did not know how to throw a baseball.
It doesn't surprise me because it looks like he doesn't on the show. If you have been around sports, when you watch that, you're like, "That is not a good— That's not a good throwing." You could tell he did not throw a ball. Absolutely. That was a disaster, dude.
Yeah, but that was after a year. That's crazy. That was a year of him getting it to that kind of good. It's not surprising though that you would like those particular— Those are cutting-edge comedies.
Yeah, that's what I responded to. I just— I— I wouldn't miss those shows. I thought they were really, really funny. And yeah, I mean, it's so funny because I remember watching— you just said that— I remember watching that show and being like, this guy cannot throw a ball to save his life.
Is there anything in business that feels as good as making someone laugh? No, no, no.
Anything in building that feels as good as making someone laugh?
Building, building things, building. I mean, you are— you've got 14 podcasts, right? On YMH. I don't know. YMH, excuse me. Is that it? 14's plenty, but I don't know whether I've got a low number.
No, I mean, there's some that we own and operate, and there's some that we just distribute, sell things for. So the whole number could be around that. Yeah. No, the addiction of writing something, the rush that you feel, I think it's why you see comedians working into their 90s. You know, they— you, you— there's nothing that feels quite like that. Nothing feels quite like that. In business, I think it feels like a thrill to go like, oh, this worked. That's exciting. It's exciting that you— same kind of thing, you had an idea and it's actually— people are responding to it. That's also, I think, a rush of a feeling. But there's— I don't think there's anything that feels quite as good as that creative thrill of, I had an idea, I took it on stage. And the real thrill is actually when you take something on stage and it doesn't work, but you go, I'm not ready to give up on it yet. And you start pivoting, like dialing in, like, is it this? Is it that? And then you actually make it work. That feeling is even better than the thing of like, it worked the first time.
You think you'll be working until you're 90?
I don't think I'll live that long. But I think I will— I think I will not be able to walk away from stand-up. I really do. I think even if I had the thing, like, you've seen comedians who get movie careers and they stop doing stand-up. I think I'm too invested. It's too much a part of my DNA to— even if I had that option, I still think I would do it sometimes.
Even though it wasn't your original dream, and now you're partaking in your original childhood dream.
I mean, look, I could be wrong, but I just stepped away from stand-up for the longest I've ever stepped away from it, which was I didn't do it from December 7th until about, I don't know, early April. That's the longest I've ever taken away from it. And when I got back up there, It was so much fun. I was like, this is so— it's so fun. It's so— it's so fun. It's so a part of who I am. I think I can take a break, but I don't know that I could ever like leave it.
December, January, February, March, April. So 5 months and you weren't— you weren't even writing or you were?
No, I wasn't writing anything.
So you weren't writing anything and you weren't performing anything. 5 months is the longest time and you missed it? You missed it the entire time?
No, I didn't miss it the entire time. Time. I didn't— I was— I think I was— I just finished a tour. I was like, man, all I've done is just tour, tour, tour. I went into a production, so I— my creative energy went into something else, you know. I went into like— we were in the writer's room, and then we were actually shooting Bad Thoughts, and then you wrap it and you're in post, and you're— we're still doing some other stuff for the movie. So you're still having creative energy going into something. But as soon as we started to see the finish line for those things, I I was like, I really want to get back on stage now.
And, uh, yeah, I'm happy to be back on stage. Can you remember anything? I'm sorry to laugh at this. Uh, I'm actually— I'm laughing at something I shouldn't be laughing at, which is that you date rate drugged yourself. Uh, but I was gonna ask you if you remember anything from your coma experience.
The— you know, I remember everything from that night. Of leading up to it and coming out of it. Like, I don't remember being in the coma. I just remember up until the moment that I passed out, I remember exactly where I was. I remember exactly what I was doing. I remember how absolutely out of my mind high I was. Like, I was so lit. No idea that it was going to end in a coma, but I was 19 years old and it was the day after Thanksgiving. So I was a—
When we're all in a coma.
We're all in a coma. I was a freshman in college, and so I went home for a break, and so you're seeing everybody that you graduated high school with basically for the first time in months, and it's like there's this very kind of like reunion-like feel to it. Everybody's having fun, and we were partying. It was having a great time, and I remember just drinking so much, going to different parties. And like, we were at this party here and then we end up at this party over here and getting that GHB in my system and being like, I mean, like, eyes roll back, but thinking like, it's like any night of partying, like, oh, I mean, I just— I'm lit right now. I just remember sitting on this chair on this patio of this place and my girlfriend at the time sitting on my lap, and I just remember passing out on her. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital and seeing Dr. Casanova, Cuban, lean over like into my eyeline. And I was like, that's Dr. Casanova. She's like— and she was like, she goes, you— I have tubes in my mouth, I can't talk.
She's like, you overdosed. You're just like, what? Like, to hear that sentence said to you, you overdose. I'm like, I was like, okay. And I just remember I've said it, but it was my real next thought was like, I hope my parents don't know. I was like, I just hope they don't know. And they literally fall into frame. Like they lean over me. I'm like, ah, shit. I was like, this isn't good, man. And then they, you know, they had my arms tied down so that you can't pull your tubes out. So they gave me like a pen and like you could kind of scratch what you're trying to say. And I wrote, "Are you mad at me?" And my dad looked at it and he goes, "No, buddy. Just disappointed." And I was like, "Bro, you used to say that right now?" It's worse. Oh, I know. I prefer your anger. Oh my God. And then I just remember being in that ICU for a couple days. And it's really— it's really humbling and sobering. To have that experience, you know? You're just like— I mean, everybody was so disappointed and saddened by the whole thing.
It was— you're just like, "Fuck, man, this is just—" And the worst is that at that time too, people were like, "Oh, you're a junkie." And you're like, "I'm not. I just, like, I'm 19 and I took too much stuff." "I'm not a junkie, I'm just 19." Yeah, I was like, "I just overdid it," you know? But you can't convince people of that. And then they sent me to a facility to get evaluated. And I'm in this, like, room with, like, hardcore— And you're just like, "I'm just 19!" I'm saying this at the thing. I'm in the thing, and there's a guy who's like, "My name's Greg. I'm a crack addict." And telling, like, his crack story. And they get to me, and I was like, "Yeah, I'm not an addict." And they're like, "Sure, buddy." I was like, "No, I just party." And they're like, "This kid's really in denial." Like, you couldn't convince anybody. And then I remember one of the counselors there, he pulled me aside, he goes, "Can I tell you something?" I go, "Yeah." He goes, "If you can stay cool," which is like booze and weed, "you're fine." I go, "You're a counselor here?" He's like, "Yeah." I go, "Okay, thanks, man." I go, "I think I'll take that advice.
Get out of here." And at this point, though, your parents are worried in general about your future. Was there a point where they stopped stopped worrying about your future?
I think they were really nervous for those— for a couple years there after that incident. That was like, obviously, I mean, it's traumatizing for everyone, and I think for them, super traumatizing. I think they were always like, you know, wondering how this whole entertainment thing was gonna go. I think when I started to sell tickets, they were super excited, and by the time it got to like certainly the second and third special, and they see me on tour, and they're coming to shows, and they're like, "Wow, there's, like, a bunch of people here." They got more relaxed and excited. My dad got so excited. He was the one that was, like, really excited for the success. Like, he would just— could not stop talking about it. Like, everywhere he goes, he was like, "I told this guy and that guy who you are. I told them how many tickets you sold." I'm like, "You don't have to." But he just couldn't help himself. He couldn't help himself. And my mom was just like, what are, what can you buy me? I was like, okay. Yeah. Literally I was like, I got this car. She's like, where's my car?
I'm like, what are you talking about? Like, I don't have to buy you a car. She's like, what are you talking about? You can do it. You can afford it. Everything was just like, why don't you buy me stuff?
Well, what are they thinking between 2010 and 2014 though, before it's that? And it seems like you're going to explain podcasts with your wife to them. Are they understanding what's happening there as a career choice?
My mom's not really understanding. My dad is like, he really just understands, like, you know, I think he understood the fact that in that time I'm like, I'm doing this, it's fun. And then he really understood, oh, you know, I go, I, uh, I paid my car payment this month from doing this podcast. And he was like, that's great. Like, he really saw it as, okay, like, you're— you found something that he was excited by, that journey, like the adventure of trying to make this work out. And so he really was like, hey man, you're figuring it out somehow, that's great. And then I go, you know, I booked this, I booked that. I mean, they really take advantage of young comedians at the club level before you sell tickets. I mean, they— it's kind of dirty business. It is, man. Like, you know, you're so— like, I'm headlining and people don't know that, like, you're headlining at that level, they give you like $1,200 maybe for 6 shows plus $350 travel and your flight's $600. And then they, you know, like you're not like making a living. People go, isn't that enough? You go, well, yeah, but don't forget that it's not every week.
So maybe if you book 2 of those a month, which you're lucky, That works out to $600 a week, but you didn't really make $600 'cause you had to pay commissions, and you had to pay travel. So, you have to find something else to supplement your income, even though your name is on the marquee at one of the flagship comedy clubs in the country. So, people are like, "You sold out the club." You're like, "I didn't sell out the club. Those are free tickets." And it's— So, you really do have to figure out how to grind and, like, really hustle.
Your mom has told you now, though, you've done a good job, or she's proud of you, or not?
She, uh, yes. Yes. She's gotten there. Yeah, she's like, "You with your millions, you have so much.
Why don't you give me some?" Again with more for me. It always comes back to that with her. This doesn't seem like selfless unconditional love the way that you think of perhaps parental love on occasion.
No, it's definitely not. It's definitely not. She's like, "Where are we going for like New Year's?" I'm like, "What do you mean we?" And she was like, "Aren't you going to go somewhere nice?" I'm like, "Yeah." She goes, "I'm coming." I'm like, "I didn't invite you." She invites herself on shit. Yeah.
What are the most Latin things about your upbringing?
Whoa. Well, I'm trying to think here. I mean, well, first of all is the fact that one of the Latin things is that my mother didn't speak really English. So that was kind of, that was pretty Latin. Latin people, I would go places and they're like, "Hey, your nanny's here." I'm like, "That's my mom, dude." They're like, "That's your mom?" I'm like, "Yeah, she's got olive skin and like no one knows." She's like, "She barely speaks English." I'm like, "Yeah, that's my mom, dude." She was, I mean, certainly language, certainly food, you know, a lot of Latin food, Peruvian food in the house. I would spend my summers in Peru. So I was, like, exposed at a pretty early age to, like, that side of the family. We would always have a lot of visitors, you know, like cousins, uncles, aunts, friends were always visiting us and staying with us from my mom's life, like people from her world. And then eventually, when I would go spend my summers there, you really felt like, okay, now you're immersed. And it's great because you feel like you're— connecting to that side of your family. My dad's family is so American and white, like so cracker white.
And my mom is so Latina. Like, it's just like, you don't even understand how these two— like, what do you guys have in common at all?
What's the answer to that question?
I mean, Catholicism, I think. Like, God. God. Oh yeah. God is what they have in common. They were like pretty devout. Catholics. Your dad speak Spanish? Hell no. Nothing. Not a word.
So he couldn't speak to your mom? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So your patterns, experiences in your childhood as of a parent who cannot communicate, like they can, but not with the same language.
Yeah. I mean, she obviously, like over time, her English, you know, got much better. I mean, she, She speaks good, like fairly good English now. And you can communicate with her fine in English. You realize too that you don't know my mother fully unless you speak Spanish though. Because it's still a limited level of expression. So to know this person, you have to be in their native language.
It's really hard to be funny in a second language. Like, people are funny in their first language.
Yeah, I agree. I'm always in awe of the comedians who come from another country and are able to come here, do it in another language, do it in another culture, do it like with understanding what is humorous to this audience. It's a whole thing. I, I did a tour in Spanish as a challenge, basically. It was one of the hardest things I ever did. It was one— when you say like what was really rewarding, that was really rewarding because first I I realized this always happens for me with Spanish is like, if I don't use it a lot, it starts to like go down in my proficiency. So at first I started, I was like, oh man, I gotta dial it up again. So I started having more conversations, calling people, watching more movies, reading more literature. And then I started doing the shows in Spanish. And like, you realize, When you're on stage doing— when I do stand-up in English, you're, you're very focused on what's happening, even when you look really loose. Your mind, you're very present. I would say when I do it in Spanish, or when I did it in Spanish, that is dialed up 80%.
I mean, the mental focus that it took for me to do 45 minutes of stand-up in Spanish—
I feel like it atrophied while you were talking here because you had some Texas twang on what it is that you were saying. Yeah, I feel like your, your Spanish just died a little bit. It probably did. It did.
But I'll be in Miami another 24 hours.
It'll be fine. It will. It'll get back. Uh, TomSegura.com is where you go if you want any information. You got Teacher on Netflix. It's a stand-up special. Bad Thoughts, its second season is, uh, this month, also on Netflix. Netflix is his sugar daddy. He's got a very strong relationship with Netflix. Uh, Two Bears, One Cave, still going.
Still going on YMH Studios, and Your Mom's House is also on YMH.
That's a lot of stuff. No Time for Kids, you can catch up with the kids on a future podcast.
I'm gonna quit half of this shit, I promise.
Okay, I don't believe you. I know you're gonna be doing it till you're 90 years old.
Maybe.
Tom, thank you for being on with us. Thank you for coming to Miami to do this. I thought we were gonna have to do it in Los Angeles, so I appreciate you getting your ass down here.
My pleasure, my pleasure. Thank you, sir. Thank you for having me.
Tom Segura is a powerhouse.
The comedian, actor, bestselling author, host, & co-founder of Your Mom's House Studios tells Dan Le Batard about his early dreams of making movies - never imagining he'd become one of the biggest comedians of all-time. Segura reflects on discovering stand-up after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting, grinding through years of simply trying to make rent, and how podcasts and Netflix specials transformed his career. Tom also shares hilarious stories about his filterless Peruvian mother, “Charo,” growing up between two cultures, surviving a near-fatal overdose at 19, starting a bakery in Austin, and the lessons he's learning now about balancing fatherhood with a neverending work schedule. His latest Netflix special - “Teacher” - is now streaming and season two of “Bad Thoughts” premieres this month on Netflix. For all of Tom's latest podcasts from YMH Studios, tour dates, and more, go to TomSegura.com
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